


The Role Reversal Catalyst

by Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Mature for swearing, Trans Enjolras, also for probably some references to sex, also i dont think this is important but enjolras is trans, also this is a modern au, as is jehan, buzzfeed unsolved - Freeform, buzzfeed unsolved au, enjolras is shane madej, grantaire is ryan bergara, is this a role reversal au?, just to note that he is in a lot of my modern aus so, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 00:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors/pseuds/Courfeyrock_crushes_scissors
Summary: Grantaire believed in nothing. Enjolras believed in everything.Except ghosts. Ghosts aren't real."What? Ghosts are totally real."--Grantaire believes in something. It's the Buzzfeed Unsolved inspired AU that no one knew they wanted or needed until right the heck now





	The Role Reversal Catalyst

Things happen that humans cannot explain. That's why people throughout history made up shit to explain why things happen. People made up God to try to explain where you went after you died. They were scared, and didn't know where they were going. They had to make some shit up about Jesus and God and Heaven, so that their fragile minds could rest at night and they wouldn't have to worry about anything except keeping a clean soul and stoning women for not wanting to marry old men. 

At least, that was how Grantaire saw it. Things happened and people wanted to know the answer, no matter how fucking ridiculous it was. 

A glass sliding across the table in the Musain, untouched by anyone else, seemed to cause quite the ruckus. As soon as it had slid, Bahorel was the first one up out of his seat, holding his fingers in a cross shape. 

"FUCK THAT. FUCK THAT. FUCK NO." He hurled himself over the nearby couch, and was quickly followed by Courfeyrac. "Oh hell no!" He shouted, also diving back behind the couch with him. They didn't fucks with no ghosts. Absolutely not. 

Enjolras glanced up from his laptop, frowning. "What's the problem?" He asked. Ice blue eyes surveyed the room. While those two cowered behind the couch, Combeferre merely looked amused. Jehan had perked up from his perch; which was currently draped over Joly and Bossuet's laps. They themselves looked merely confused. Or rather, Joly looked as squeamish as usual, and Bossuet had a face of peculiar puzzlement. 

"Did you not just see the fucking glass move?" Bahorel asked, pointing a finger at the glass. It had been Marius' cup, and he himself had jumped about thirty feet back from it. He looked so pale, his freckles looked damn near black on his skin. 

"And what's so scary about that? It was merely the condensation under the glass making it slide." Enjolras picked up said-glass. He had never been one to believe in ghosts; nor demons, spirits, haunts, or ghouls. The wolfman was laughable. Mermaids? Illogical. Were they mammals like humans or did they have gills? He had had many a debate about Bigfoot with Courfeyrac, and Combeferre had once or twice wistfully hoped for the existence of the mothman. Enjolras had never, and would never, believe they were real. Not unless he saw a ghost walk up to his face and say "boo." 

Courfeyrac gave a laugh, crawling out from behind the couch. Bahorel skeptically followed. "Are you sure?" He asked, squinting at the cup. He still didn't trust it. "Who's a priest in here who can bless this water?" That earned him one eye roll from Enjolras and a few chortles of laughter across the room. "I held a funeral for my pet rabbit once, does that count?" Bossuet asked from across the room. He was quick to jump up, and Jehan barely avoided tumbling to the ground due to the movement. 

"IT'LL HAVE TO DO!" Bahorel proclaimed loudly, ushering Bossuet over. He waved his hands vaguely over the glass and "blessed" it. "OHHHH Mother Mary and Joseph--"

"What're they gonna do?" Eponine piped up from the bar, making Grantaire snicker. 

"--And also GOD-" Bossuet tacked on on the end. "Bless this cup so it doesn't get haunted anymore! AMEN!" 

A rousing "AMEN!" echoed through the Musain. Enjolras put his chin in his palm. "That's ridiculous. Ghosts aren't real." Of all the things he did believe in, he didn't believe in invisible dead people walking amongst the living. 

"Apollo," Grantaire crooned, coming down from his own post at the bar. A glass of brown liquor in hand, he descended upon the blonde beauty who hunched over his computer. "Of all the things you believe in, you don't believe in ghosts? I'm shocked. I'm Apollo-d." That was bad. Silence followed. He sighed. "Appalled. But he's Apollo. You all have no sense of humor." This was greeted by the witch-cackling that Eponine called laughter. "We have a sense of humor, your jokes are just all bad." 

Enjolras turned to look at the disheveled girl at the bar. "Finally, something we can agree on." He said sarcastically.

"I'm sure it's the last." She snickered and took a deep sip from her beer. "Now now, kids, no fighting." Combeferre chastised gently. He seated himself at the table now, glancing between Enjolras and Grantaire. The former looked annoyed, while the latter looked fairly amused. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "We can't truly rule out the possibility of spirits, though I personally find it hard to believe. One can't rule out anything unless it's been proven false." He pointed out.

"Exactly," Grantaire hummed. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight. He snapped in Feuilly's direction. "HIT THE LIGHTS!" he called over-dramatically. Enjolras huffed in protest as the lights went down, and the room was only illuminated by his phone flashlight and the light of Enjolras' computer. Courfeyrac did a drive-by laptop shut, and Enjolras did a soft scream in more protest. "You're ruining the ambience," Courfeyrac complained. 

"A hush falls over the crowd," Grantaire directed, standing. He held the flashlight under his face, illuminating it in possibly an unflattering way. Though he didn't care, as to him, any lighting was unflattering. Though he acted ridiculous, he had the room immediately under his spell. While Enjolras could enchant nearly anyone with his empowering speeches and his radiant sense of justice, Grantaire had the ability to harness nearly anyone in with a sly smirk and a few jokes. His charisma was that of no other. 

"Grantaire, what are you doing?" Enjolras inquired. He was met with a finger over Grantaire's lips. "Apollo. What part of 'a hush falls over the crowd' did you not get?" He joked, snickering. He gestured out to the room once more. 

"When I was a wee lad in the old country--" 

"Grantaire, you grew up in the city," Eponine shook her head. 

"Do  _any_ of you heathens have manners?" Grantaire asked, craning his head. "ANYWAY. When I was a kid, I went to visit my grandparents house in the mountains. Nice little farm. Nothing crazy. Anyway, I was walking around the entire property when I saw this lady dressed in really old-school clothes. I'm not talking 90s, I'm talking like 1890s." He wiggled his fingers a little bit in a spooky way. "Y'know, I grew up in a weird neighborhood, so seeing that didn't really faze me." He waved his hand around dismissively. 

"So I called out to her to ask her what she was doing on the farm. Y'know, I was a kid, so I just asked. She didn't even turn around or anything. She just disappeared into thin air." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that! So I ran back home and told my grandfather. And he said that back in the day, the house belonged to a family and the mom had died by hanging herself. And he said her spirit wandered the woods and the fields all the time." 

He pointed to Feuilly, who flicked the lights back on. Everyone clapped as if they had just seen a show of wonders and amazement. "And that's why I believe in ghosts. Because I saw one with my own two eyes." 

"Oxygen deprivation," Enjolras sighed. "The mountain's altitude is different. You probably weren't used to it, and it made you hallucinate." He opened his laptop back up and gave another deep sigh. This was ridiculous. He didn't believe a word of that. Though the story, as always, had been strangely captivating. Not the subject matter, of course, but the storyteller who spun those wild tales. Grantaire had a way with words. It was a shame; he'd be an amazing speaker for the cause. If only he stopped doodling on napkins and actually participated. 

"It wasn't oxygen deprivation, oh fiery leader." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "I know what I saw. I saw a woman disappear. She was there and then she wasn't. Simple as that!" Grantaire was hanging tight on this. This was suddenly becoming very ironic to everyone around them. "So what we're hearing is..." Courfeyrac began. 

"A role reversal!" Jehan piped up, grinning wide when Courfeyrac glared at him playfully. "The skeptic and the believer have switched roles! How debonair!" Jehan pretended to swoon off of Joly's lap, sliding to the floor like a lazy cat. That was an accurate description if there ever was one. "How romantic," Joly snickered, nudging Feuilly a bit. They didn't want either gentleman to know that. 

Enjolras resumed his typing, peering over his laptop as Grantaire seated himself across from him. "You really think there isn't anything out there?" Grantaire asked him. Enjolras resigned to the fact that he would never get any work done this way, and so he shut his laptop. Maybe if this conversation ended, he would be able to get right back to work as planned. "I think that ghosts and ghouls are baloney." He said simply. So eloquently put. 

"WELL!" Courfeyrac seemed to pop up like an annoying side character. "How about a little test then?" 

"A test?" Combeferre asked, leaning in closer. "You don't mean--" 

"A GHOST HUNT!" Courfeyrac shouted. Grantaire immediately grinned. "Oh fuck yeah! That's what I wanna do!" He stood up and grinned, turning to Enjolras. "Absolutely not." Enjolras shook his head quickly. He wasn't afraid, of course. It just sounded like a waste of time he could be using to work. Or whatever else besides this. Also, spiders weren't exactly his favorite. 

Grantaire turned fully to face Enjolras and cocked a hip. "Are you afraid I'll prove you wrong?" He asked, approaching slowly. "Just admit already that you think ghosts might exist. We don't have to go if you say it." But the problem there was that Enjolras was a stubborn butt, and he would never say something so idiotic. 

After a long pause, Enjolras opened his laptop. "I'll go on this ghost hunt. I can't wait to walk around an abandoned warehouse for hours, chasing cold air." He glanced up at him. "May I return to my work, please?" Grantaire nodded, and turned to Courfeyrac with a wide smile. "We gotta go find some wicked places! And we need equipment--" Those two wandered off to talk ghost equipment. 

Combeferre settled his hands on the table and chuckled. "This would be a good opportunity to get to know him better, like you wanted," Ferre pointed out. Enjolras didn't respond. His pale ears turned a bit pink, and he huffed. "This is going to be a waste of time. We aren't going to find anything, he'll look like a fool, and I'll win. And then maybe everyone can shut up about ghosts, and I'll be able to work in peace. How does that sound?" 

Enjolras' bespectacled friend only laughed quietly. "And if you do meet a ghost?" 

"I'll ask him or her or them what they're doing and if they can introduce me to the ghost of Robespierre." He snorted. Enjolras, cracking a joke? Impossible. Combeferre shook his head and turned away to get up and collect Jehan from the carpet. 

He only wondered how long it would take for them to either rip each other apart or rip each others' clothes off. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya hi I'm Jay and I'm here to say (#BARS) that the les mis fandom may be dead but this is the fanfic that will resurrect it and i hope you like it
> 
> my twitter is @slime_dad and please god please follow me and feel free to tweet me suggestions for fics, ideas of how to continue shit, etc.! Also, holla at me for whatever else you wanna talk about i like tons of shit


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